Pain
by ChibiMeikoChan
Summary: A look into Heero's pre-past. slight 1+2, not for the weak at heart!!!


Hi! I was in a rather melancholy and this is what was produced because of that! 

I don't own Gundam Wing! Have fun!

  
  


Warnings: Angst, abuse, yaoi 1+2

  
  


Ok, I know this didn't happen, but this is what I thought could've happened. Kinda an AU prequel thing, my own interpretation. If you didn't like my Nanashi story, you are probably not going to like this one, so leave while you still can, oh you innocent soul.

  
  


~*~

  
  


Duo traced his hands down his lovers shoulder blade softly, running his small fingers down a deep scar on hi sleeping koi's back. _'What is this from?'_ he asked himself, so lost in his thoughts he didn't here Heero shifting under his covers uneasily. The sleeping Japanese rolled onto his back and exposed his bare chest, another deep scar on his torso, opposite to where the other scar was. Duo stared in shock, '_Almost as if he had been stabbed.'_ The short-haired boy was still not awake, but seemed to frown in his sleep, apparently being taken into a nightmare.

  
  


~*~

  
  


"You little shit!" Hitomi screamed at the child, her grey eyes glazed from alcohol. "I thought I fucking told you to clean this shit up!" She paused in her shrieking for a moment to drink a gulp of booze. Glaring at the boy, she swayed a bit, then smirked coldly. She lit up a cigarette and waved the bright cherry in front of her nephew. "Go clean up the kitchen Takeda," she cooed, her voice now sugary sweet. Hearing her tone, the small boy was even more frightened now than before. It was dangerous when she talked this kindly; he learned that the first time he ever trusted her when she spoke like that . When she became gentle, she was throwing you off you guard and could attack you at anytime. Walking quickly, he shrunk under the hateful glare she was giving him. 

  
  


The pale brown-haired child, Takeda, climbed onto a small stool and picked up a dish. His small hands were trembling badly, wondering what kind of 'game' his aunt wanted to play today. Soon, however, he forgot all about her as his blue eyes grew glassy and his thoughts wondered back to his parents. _'Okaa-san,' _he thought sadly, then thought back to his father, the man he could remember very little of. All that the child could remember of him was how strong and loving he was. A smile graced the face of the normally very detached boy as he remembered the man picking him up and swinging him up and around, saying he was a ship going to the colonies... but that was before they died, and he was sent here, this horrible place with his aunt and uncle.

  
  


His aunt used to be a kind woman. She had willingly taken in the small Japanese boy when she heard about his parent's death. The once attractive woman was heartbroken upon hearing of her imouto-chan's death; "You look so much like your mother, Sakura, Takeda," she would say, and then she would pull him into a hug and squeezed him tightly, only to eventually reveal that she secretly hated Takeda's mother. 

  
  


He never got to really know his uncle; all he knew was that the man was ½ German, and his name was Odin Lowe. He hardly ever came home, and when he did it was really late at night and then only for a few minutes at a time, then, he was gone again. 

  
  


A loud crash brought him back to the present. His eyes filled with sheer terror as he realized he had dropped a dish; his aunt would be very, very pissed. And as if on cue, she came in and grabbed Takeda by the collar of his ratty shirt, yanking him out of the way. When she looked in the sink, the small brown-haired felt his heart start racing and his mouth go dry; she was going to kill him this time, he knew it. A harsh backhand sent him sprawling across the tiled kitchen floor, blood trickling from his small nose. "You fucking idiot! Can't you do anything right?! You stupid bastard!!" his aunt howled, her brown eyes dark with drunken rage. He quickly stood up, knowing that if he remained on the ground, he would be at her mercy, or rather, there lack of. 

  
  


She picked up the largest piece of the plate and hurled it at the blue-eyed child, hitting Takeda in his chest, it knocked the wind out of him, but he remained standing. He held the quartered plate to him closely, his feet nailed to the floor in fear. "Please...Aunt..." he whispered softly, half daring for her to hear, half hoping against it. She stood in front of him now, her height towering over the shrunken child, dread making him cringe until he was nearly bent over. Hitomi stood for a moment, glaring at the top of his head and the way it was shaking, so very slightly. 

  
  


She watched him for what seemed an endless time, but in fact, it was actually just a minute, maybe two. Then it happened; it came so fast, Takeda literally didn't know what hit him. One minute he was standing, the next he was lying on the ground wondering what in the hell just smacked him; all he knew was there was blood all over his hands and his face. Then he realized that the broken plate he had been holding so tightly, almost like a life line was gone from his grip. _'She must have hit me with the plate,' _he reasoned, still trying to wipe the blood that was getting all over his face and all over his clothes. 

  
  


Hitomi stared at the young boy, her nephew, as he desperately tried to clean the dripping blood that was smearing all over his face. A small boy, of maybe four or five (she had stopped counting), trying to rid himself of his own trickling _life_, not even bothering to cry. A hateful sneer spread across her face and she grabbed him by his messy brown hair than smashed the plate across his young face so hard he saw stars. But he still didn't cry. "Little fool," she taunted and threw him into the cupboards. He collapsed and tried to get up automatically, his weak arms wobbling underneath him. 

  
  


The drunken woman kicked him in his face and watched as he fell down on his front again. The black-haired woman took to kicking Takeda in his ribs repeatedly, even after she heard several sickening crunches, no doubt his small ribs snapping. Finally, he started to whimper, small pathetic cries of pain and for help. "Who's going to help you?" she screeched angrily, kicking him harder and harder. "Who the fuck is going to help a stupid insignificant child like you?!"

  
  


"Why....aunt?" he asked though several bloody coughs, already knowing the answer. Instead of giving him an answer, Hitomi tossed him into the dining room. He landed unceremoniously on the powder blue carpets. The blue-eyed child could not even move; his ribs hurt, his head hurt, his back was aching and his throat was raw from coughing up blood. His aunt dragged him up his hair and slammed him against the wall repeatedly, over and over and over. Takeda shrieked in pain; he couldn't take it anymore. It hurt too much. Finally she dropped him in disgust and turned away; she froze when she saw all the blood around her, all her young nephews. 

  
  


"Why...?" came the ragged whisper, breaking her out of her daze. He was still awake. The dark-haired woman approached him slowly and stared at the bloody child boy. His brown hair was a dark crimson color, and there was so much blood pooling around him, even as he struggled to stand up. "Is...is it be-c-c-cause I... look like...my k-k-kaa-s-san, A-aunt?" he asked, gritting his teeth in pain. Hitomi shook her head in fear of this little boy who was still called her aunt even when she almost beat him to death. 

  
  


He wasn't human, he couldn't have been!

  
  


Her short black hair matted to her forehead, the Asian woman ran to the kitchen and pulled out a drawer, then grabbed a carving knife to kill the demon child. She would kill him, it, before he could kill her. _'He would,'_ her mind hissed at her and she nodded, once twice, twenty times, as if she would never stop. _'He will kill for revenge. I have to stop him.'_

  
  


__Hitomi ran back into the dining room, her eyes frantic and wild. _'There, against the wall.'_ She entered cautiously and stepped up to him; he looked at her, his eyes unfocused and tears streaming down his face. "Demon!" she screamed and dove the blade in the area above his chest, going straight through his this body. Takeda arched his back and screamed in pain, then let it gradually die in his throat as a rush of blood gurgled up.

  
  


The black-haired woman was across the room, lost in her insanity. She hid behind the great table and waited only minutes when the front door opened: it was Odin. "Don't come any closer!" she screeched and ran toward him, trying to hold him back. The blond man, however, was shocked to see his home in such a mess. There was blood everywhere, and when he saw his nephew, he resisted the urge to scream. The five year old was sitting hunched over, bloody from unknown sources and a knife stabbed through him. "It's a demon!" he heard Hitomi shrieking, but he let her drown out. Takeda needed serious medical help, and by the looks of his wife, she needed some as well, though of a different kind: mental.

  
  


Odin grabbed his wife by her wrists with one hand and ripped out a television cord with another. He wrapped the cables around her wrists tightly then tossed her onto the couch. He quickly turned on the VidPhone and called the emergency room. 

"We'll be right there, Mr. Lowe," came the response and the screen was once again blank. The blond started helping his nephew immediately after hanging up. "It's okay Takeda," he whispered softly and patiently waited for the ambulance to come. "It'll be okay."

  
  


~*~

  
  


Duo stared at Heero and sighed softly. His lover, it seemed, had stilled in the last past half an hour, but the frown was still present. _'Should I wake him up or not?' _he wondered, confused. The blue-eyed boy made the decision himself and snapped open his eyes. "Duo?' he whispered softly. The braided teen nodded and pulled him closer, whispering "You were having a nightmare, Koi." Heero nodded and closed his eyes. A moment later he felt Duo's on his and with that, he fell asleep again.


End file.
